Of Angels And Demons
by bethejerktomybitch
Summary: Just a bunch of Destiel-AUs.
1. Into You Like A Train

_This is my first story here, and it's just a bunch of Destiel-AUs. I'm not a native English speaker, so please forgive any grammar or spelling mistakes. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it._

 **Into You Like A Train**

He's used to waking up next to girls of whom he doesn't even remember the name by now.

Today, it's a strawberry blonde one with two angel wings tattooed on her back. She's still fast asleep, and he's grateful for that. It makes it much easier to slip out of the house unnoticed.

The day is barely dawning as he walks home, but people still stare at him. He doesn't really know if it's because he looks like a mess – he was busy doing everything but sleeping that night – or if it's just the usual looks.

"Your heart is broken, and people notice.", Charlie had once said. "They have to stare at you, even if they don't want to. You're a goddamned train wreck." He hadn't said anything, but silently, he'd agreed. He felt like a train wreck, too. He felt like Cas had slammed into him, and now there was nothing left but dust and metal.

When he walks up the stairs to his apartment, Charlie's waiting for him at the door. Her red hair is pulled into a messy bun, and she looks at him with eyes full of sympathy and disapproval all at once.

She doesn't even say hello, she just asks: "What was her name?"

Dean shrugs and walks past her, unlocks the door and prays that she won't follow him inside, but of course, she does anyway. She goes straight into the living room and sits down on the couch, feeling more at home in this apartment than he will ever do.

"You can't keep doing that.", she says, matter-of-factly.

"Doing what?", he snaps.

She rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean! You're using them! You don't feel anything for these girls!"

"Maybe I do. How would you know?", he answers, one eyebrow raised.

She laughs a dry, joyless laugh. "You wouldn't leave them every morning then."

The words leave his mouth before he can stop them, full of anger and pain and so many unsaid feelings. "Well, he told me that he loved me all the time, and he still left."

Immediately, her face softens. Her voice is sweet and quiet when she says: "Dean, he did love you."

He turns away so she can't see the tears in his eyes. "Then why did he leave?", he asks, his voice shaky and hoarse.

"He loved you, I know that.", she answers.

A breathe, a pause, then she says: "He just wasn't ready for it to hit him that hard."


	2. It Takes A Week

**It Takes A Week**

He spends the days following Cas' death in a haze.

The days blend together, one after another passing, but he doesn't really care. He doesn't really care about anything.

On Monday, Sam calls, but he doesn't pick up. He just can't bear hearing his voice right now, can't bear hearing him ask if he's okay, because he isn't, he will never be, and he just doesn't understand.

On Tuesday, Charlie knocks on his door, but he doesn't open up. When she states that she brought vodka and practically begs him to let him in, he turns up the music. He's tried alcohol, and it doesn't help. It just dulls the pain for a while and makes it worse when he finally feels it.

On Wednesday, it's the elderly old lady from next door who knocks on his door. She wants to complain because he keeps listening to the mixtape Cas made for him before his death at full volume. He doesn't even raise his head, and wonders if she knows that he's only listening to music to silence his thoughts.

On Thursday, nobody bothers to check on him. He feels relieved, but also a bit sad. He starts thinking that the only person who genuinely cared about him died on that horrible day in the hospital.

On Friday, he empties a bottle of vodka and when Sam calls again and he actually does answer his phone, his words are slurred and barely understandable. Sam cries a little bit and begs Dean to talk to him, to get help, and when he wakes up the next morning, he only remembers screaming at him that he doesn't need help.

On Saturday, he gets out of bed and puts on clean clothes. He showers and brushes his teeth before he drives to the nearest city and buys the sharpest kitchen knife he can find.

On Sunday, he writes a letter on a piece of paper torn from a book Cas gave to him for his birthday. He cries the whole time and listens to the mixtape again and again, every song like a stab in his already dying heart.

On Monday, Sam calls again, but he doesn't pick up. He's too busy staring at the knife in his hands.

On Tuesday, Charlie knocks on his door. When nobody answers the door and there's no sound from inside, she calls Sam.

On Wednesday, Sam and Charlie sit in a waiting room. The coroner comes up to them with a sad smile. "I'm sorry.", he says. "It was suicide. He slashed his wrists."

Sam cries himself to sleep that night and on the following Wednesday, he overdoses with sleeping pills.

It only takes a week to fall apart, after all.


	3. His

**His**

They'd both agreed on not making this a big deal. They'd both agreed that they would just go their separate ways, without a fight, without making much of a fuss.

Silently, Dean had hoped that he could just slip out of the apartment without even talking to her, but these hopes are shattered when he steps into the living room and sees her sitting on the couch.

Lisa raises her head and looks at him with a cold look in her eyes. "Morning.", she says, and he can't help but notice that she stopped wishing him a good morning. When they first got together, she used to greet him with a "Good morning, sweetie" or a "Hey, baby". Now, all he gets is this cold, dry "Morning", and it's probably all he deserves.

"Morning.", he answers as he slowly walks up to her, hand clutched tightly around his bag.

"You wanted to leave before I got up."

It's not a question, and he doesn't even bother to deny it. Instead, he just says: "I'm sorry."

She laughs her dry, joyless laugh, the laugh he knows all too well by now. "For what exactly? For leaving or for not even telling me goodbye?"

He takes a deep breath. "I thought we'd been through this. I thought…"

She interrupts him, tears streaking her pretty face. "We've been through this, yeah. You say you don't love me anymore, and I get that. But if you ever loved me, you should respect me enough to at least tell me goodbye."

There's silence after that. They just stare at each other, the air between them full of unsaid words, until she asks anxiously: "Did you ever love me?"

He hesitates, just for a brief second, but it's enough. He can see the look on her face shifting, he can see her pulling herself together and he can see the disappointment in her eyes changing to pure, simple pain.

"I knew it.", she whispers, so quietly he can barely hear her.

The words slip out of his mouth, and he knows they aren't true, he knows he's lying to her, but he cares enough about her to not want her to be hurt. "I did love you, I did. I promise. I still do, in some kind of way. I just…"

Again, she interrupts him, but this time with a sad smile on her lips. "You don't. You've always been his. But thank you for trying."


	4. Remember Me

**Remember Me**

What he hates most about dying are the constant looks.

People look at him with so much sympathy, their eyes practically screaming "I am so sorry", when in reality all they're thinking is "Thank god it's not me".

Also, people talk to him differently as soon as they know that his time is running out. They speak with shushed voices, carefully examining every word before they say it, afraid that their words might break his fragile, dying body.

He hates that. Because, let's face it, it really can't get worse. Their words can't do more harm than the cancer.

The only one who doesn't treat him differently, who talks to him like he can still take some sharp words, who looks at him like he's still the fairly good-looking guy he was before chemo, is Dean.

Sometimes his crooked smile can make him forget that he's in a white, cold hospital room. Sometimes his stupid jokes can make him stop listening to the beeping next to him that is counting down his remaining heartbeats. And sometimes his kisses can make him forget that he will never make it to his twenty-fifth birthday.

The day everything changes – well, again, because everything already changed when he got his diagnosis – is the day his second round of chemo starts. He's sitting in the patients' lounge – which is really just a nice word for a crappy room – when Dean's best friend, Jo walks in.

He doesn't really know her, and he knows she's never liked him, so he's pretty surprised when she sits down next to him and gives him a slight smile. "Hi."

"Hi.", he answers.

"How are you?"

He snorts. "Asides from the fact that I'm dying, fine, thank you."

Her mouth twitches and he can't tell if she's hurt or angry. For a moment there's silence, until he asks: "Where's Dean?"

"He couldn't make it." She hesitates a moment before she adds: "He's not exactly well."

Fear floods his body and the words tumble out of his mouth in a rush. "What happened? Is he ill? What…?"

She interrupts him. "He's fine, physically. But mentally… he's watching you die. Do you think he can do that without getting damaged himself? He's a mess, and a part of him is dying with you."

She leaves shortly after that, and Dean comes back that evening, smiling and joking and kissing him like everything's alright, but he can't help thinking about her words over and over again.

Two days later they are laying on his bed side by side, Dean's arms wrapped around him and his warm breath tickling his neck, when the words slip out of his mouth. "Will you remember me? When I'm gone, I mean."

Dean laughs. "Of course I will. How could I ever forget you?"

"Don't."

His eyes widen and he looks at him blankly. "What?"

"Don't remember me. Don't grieve for me. Don't miss me. I'm not worth it. Find someone else, get happy, and never, ever remember me."

Dean's green eyes are full of something that could be pain or love or both at the same time as he says: "You are worth it. I love you, and I…"

He interrupts him. "Please.", he says pleadingly. "Please. I can't die knowing that you'll forever miss me. Just forget me. Grant me this last wish."

As Dean looks at him now, it's definitely pain on his face. His eyes are dwelling with tears and his voice is shaky when he says: "I can't."

In this moment, he takes back everything he said before.

What he hates most about dying are not the constant looks.

It's having to break Dean's heart.


	5. Puzzle Pieces

**Puzzle Pieces**

Let me make something clear before I begin.

Real life's nasty. It's cruel. It doesn't care about happy endings and the way things should be and the hero who is supposed to get the girl – or, in this particular case, the boy.

In real life, people die. Fights are lost. Hearts are broken. And the hero doesn't always get the boy.

Because this is a real story, the hero doesn't get the boy. It's the poorly written side character who gets the boy. And it's the hero who gets his heart broken.

This story starts on a rainy Friday in late August. At first glance, it doesn't seem like a very special Friday. But it's the day the hero, Cas, and the boy, Dean, he would live happily ever after with – if this was an imaginary story – first cross paths.

The hero and the boy grow closer over the years, and they change each other. It's what you'd call character development, I guess. They were very much alike when they first met, both with a head full of ideas and sparkling eyes and contagious laughter, but years later, they fit together like two puzzle pieces.

They like the same food. They laugh about the same jokes. They listen to the same music. They read the same books. They have the same friends.

But it's the little differences that make them… special.

It's the fact that while the hero likes English, the boy likes math. It's the fact that while the hero watches action movies, the boy watches comedies. It's the fact that while the hero prefers popcorn, the boy prefers nachos.

They are friends, best of friends. And if this was a fairytale, they would eventually get together and live happily ever after.

But it isn't. And so, again on a rainy Friday, but this time in March, real life starts kicking in.

It's the day the boy meets the side character, Lisa. The side character who would grow to be the one to be responsible for breaking the hero's heart. Plot twist, you'd call it.

Those two, they don't fit together. They like some of the same things, but they fight about far more things. They fight about which pizza to get. They fight about which city to go to. They fight about basically everything.

But because this is real life, and because circumstances and pressure and ten thousand other things besides fate play a role too, they ignore it. They try anyway.

They slam against each other, try to make it fit, and by doing so, they break all the puzzle pieces.

And when the boy finally realizes that he's meant to be with the hero, it's too late. Their puzzle pieces don't fit together anymore.

So the boy stays with the side character. He stays with her because it might've seemed wrong before, but they made it fit, and now it's the right thing to do. He stays with her because this is real life, and there's no such thing as fate or meant to be.

And so this story doesn't end with two princes living happily after.

It ends with a hero endlessly wondering where he went wrong.


	6. (good) bye and (good) night

**(good) bye and (good) night**

Cas doesn't like goodbyes, and not just because of the feeling they give him.

It's not like you have the chance to say bad-bye or awful-bye or if-you-leave-it's-gonna-break-me-bye. No, byes are always supposed to be good, even though they so rarely are.

It's the same thing with nights. You can't wish someone a bad-night, or a by-the-time-you-wake-up-I'll-be-gone-night.

He hates byes, and he hates nights. They just never felt good to him. Byes are lonely and heartbreaking, and nights are cold and dark.

It was night when Dean first broke up with him, and it was bye he said to him when he left the second time. And even now that he's back, the byes and nights still linger in the background, making him shiver every time Dean doesn't make it home on time.

But they are supposed to be good. And so he sucks it up and kisses him goodnight and goodbye, when all he wants is to kiss him I-can't-lose-you-night and please-don't-leave-again-bye.


	7. The Times He Left

**The Times He Left**

The first time he feels the emptiness is just seconds after their first kiss. Their lips are still just centimetres apart, their rapid breaths caught up in each other and his big, calloused hands still resting on his waist, when someone calls out for Dean. He whispers a "Sorry" and a "We'll talk later" and disappears around the corner, and suddenly he feels it. A tugging on his heart, a hole in his chest, like there's something missing, a part of him that he wasn't even aware of. The feeling goes away when Dean comes back and kisses him again, but it was there, undeniably and painfully there.

He feels it again, a little after their fifth date. They went to the movies, and when Dean dropped him off at home, he promised to call, but he doesn't. He's lying in his bed for hours, staring at the blank screen of his phone, and the emptiness is spreading in his chest, slowing his heart and speeding his breath, until he feels like he can't breathe.

When his phone finally rings, he's gasping for air, and he can't stop the words from bursting out of his mouth. "I love you."

He figures it out the third time, when Dean leaves him in a diner because his Dad wants him to be home in five. The emptiness is something he just feels after Dean leaves. It doesn't even have to be a real goodbye. Just the feeling of getting left behind and his hearts starts aching, desperately trying to fill the gap Dean left.

The next time, it's the first morning in their new apartment. They sleep until noon, and then they eat croissants in bed and kiss the crumbs from each others lips. It seems perfect, until Dean gets a call from his most important client. He leaves in a hurry, doesn't even give him a proper goodbye kiss, just a quick peck on the lips, and the feeling overwhelms him just moments after he closes the door behind him.

When the feeling comes again, it's even worse. They just had their first big fight – he doesn't even remember what it was about – and Dean storms out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind him. He sits in the living room, wraps his arms around his body and tries to erase the emptiness, tries to fill the gaping hole in his chest, but he can't, he just can't.

The last time he feels it, Dean is standing on the other side of the room, suitcase in hand. His hair is a mess and his eyes are a little bit red, like he silently cried himself to sleep last night, but his face is absolutely calm. "I'm sorry.", he says. "But we can't go on like this. I have to leave. It's for the best."

As he turns around and leaves, he takes the missing piece in his chest with him, and the emptiness takes over, washing away every good feeling and every happy memory.

"No.", Cas whispers into the emptiness of his apartment. "No. It's not."


	8. Things That Would've Been

**Things That Would've Been**

At age 2, he would've been his grandparents' favourite grandchild. They would've given him tons and tons of toys for his birthday and for Christmas, and he would've been one hell of a spoiled child.

At age 3, he would've become a big brother. And even though he wouldn't have gotten that much attention anymore, he would've adored his little brother, even more than he would've adored his parents.

At age 5, he would've been confronted with death for the first time when his dog would've died of old age. He would've cried for hours when his mom would've told him that Eddie was gone forever.

At age 6, he would've met Cas in primary school. They would've become best friends immediately, and their mothers would've joked about them being more like brothers than like friends.

At age 8, under the old oak tree, Cas and him would've sworn to be best friends forever. And even if they wouldn't have known that then, they would've kept that promise, but in another way than they would've imagined.

At age 11, he would've kissed Cas under the same old oak tree, just to know what kisses feel like. And when he would've kissed the blonde girl from next door a few days later, it wouldn't have felt half as good.

At age 14, when Cas would've gotten his first girlfriend, he would've realized that he didn't like him as friend but as something more. He would've lied awake for hours and night, thinking about that kiss from three years earlier and wondering what it would feel like now.

At age 15, he finally would've mustered up the courage to tell Cas what he feels like. He would've been the happiest boy in the world when Cas would've told him that he felt the same and would've kissed him right on the lips.

At age 16, he would've come out to his parents and they would've loved him regardless.

At age 18, he would've graduated high school, and he would've watched Cas giving his graduation speech, wondering how you can be so in love with someone.

At age 20, he would've cried into Cas' chest when his father would've passed away after a heart attack. Cas would've held him for hours, without saying a word, and he would've realized that one day, he would marry him.

At age 24, he would've graduated from college, barely passing the last exams, and Cas would've surprised him with the keys to an apartment he rented for them together.

At age 26, he would've breathed out a yes, tears of a pure happiness streaming down his face, when Cas would've kneeled down in front of him and would've asked him to marry him.

At age 27, he would've walked down an aisle in a black suit worth a month's salary. He would've breathed out another yes before kissing Cas as hard as he could.

At age 30, he would've adopted a beautiful baby girl. They would've called her Clara, because that means bright, and she would've had a bright, happy future.

At age 48, he would've watched Clara graduate, holding his husband's hand and cheering as she would've given her graduation speech, just as Cas would've done years earlier.

At age 60, he would've held his beautiful grandson, and he would've made him the same spoiled and happy kid he would've been as a child.

At age 82, he would've died of old age; just days after Cas would've passed away. He would've just fallen asleep and never woken up again.

But at age 1, he dies of pneumonia.

And so all those things stay things that would've been but never were.


	9. Indifference

**Indifference**

The opposite of love is not hate. It's indifference.

Hate is screaming at the person you used to love, with your voice shaky and hoarse from crying. It is blaming them for breaking your love and your heart. It is breaking your dishes at 3 am because you can't stop thinking about them and what they did to you. Hate shows you still care.

But indifference, that's a whole other thing.

Indifference is hearing about your ex-lover's new relationship and neither feeling sad nor jealous. It is going anywhere you want to because you don't care that you might meet them there. It is stopping to compare anyone you meet to them. Indifference shows that you're done, completely and utterly done.

Cas isn't done, and he knows that. He feels hate and sadness and disappointment and a million other things; in short, everything but indifference.

But he wants to be done. He wants to be done so badly because if he was it wouldn't hurt so damn much.

It wouldn't hurt to see Dean with his new girlfriend, who is blonde and pretty and above all, a girl. It wouldn't hurt to find random things that he left in their apartment, like the blue mug he found in the back of the kitchen cupboard. It wouldn't hurt to remember, to go through their old photo albums and see the remnants of what they used to be.

But he isn't done. And so it hurts. It hurts like hell. And it doesn't stop hurting for a long, long while.

Eight months later, they meet in a coffee shop they used to go to when they were still together. He's expecting the sharp sting of pain he got used to by now, but it doesn't come.

"Hey.", Dean says with a forced smile.

"Hey.", he answers.

"I haven't seen you in ages. How are you?"

He shrugs. "I'm fine. I was travelling for a bit. Just got back."

Dean gives another smile, one of those smiles that used to make his insides melt. "Well, I've been…"

He interrupts him, and as soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows they're true. "Frankly, I don't give a damn."

The opposite of love is not hate. It's indifference.

And in this moment, he couldn't care less.


	10. Falling Out Of Love

_I wrote this one during my math test. Hope you enjoy it!_

 **Falling Out Of Love**

When they first meet, they don't know about society norms or wealth gaps. They are just two boys who like the same things and become best friends in primary school, but are torn apart when they go off to middle school.

When they meet again, this time in High School, they know their differences all too well. While Cas' dad is a rich white lawyer who is known nationwide, Dean's dad is a mechanic. But they still like the same things, they still listen to the same music and they are still crazy about each other.

So they fall in love.

And Cas knows it's wrong, he knows he isn't supposed to fall in love with Dean, he knows that it will never last. But he can't do anything about it.

Because the way Dean's eyes sparkle when he's excited makes him feel like he's bursting with happiness. Because the way his whole face lights up when he laughs makes him feel like he's finally home. Because the way his face hardens and his jaw tightens when he's sad or hurt makes him want to tear the world apart to make him happy again.

Somehow, they manage to make it last. They make it last all the way through High School and all the way through college (Dean goes to public school because that's all his dad can afford, Cas gets a full ride for Harvard).

It's not until they move into their first apartment together that he realizes something is wrong. He can't pinpoint what exactly, but he knows that something has changed.

Because suddenly, the way Deans's eyes sparkle when he's excited makes him want to tell him to stop being childish. Because suddenly, the way his whole face lights up when he laughs makes him think of better times, of times when Dean didn't laugh about him but with him. Because suddenly, the way his face hardens and his jaw tightens when he's sad or hurt makes him want to tell him to just light up.

Slowly but surely, he starts thinking that what his grandma told him before her death was true.

You always fall out of love for the same reasons you fell into it.


	11. Skeletons

**Skeletons**

Relationships break slowly. He's learnt that much by now.

They don't fall apart all at once. They fall apart piece by piece, like a tree loses one leaf after another until there's nothing left but a bare black skeleton against the pale blue sky.

The little things come first, little rituals like the quick goodbye kiss before he leaves to work, or the Sunday mornings at Sally's. And then, gradually, everything starts breaking down, until there's just nothing left worth fighting for. Until they're holding on to nothing more than the skeleton of what used to be their relationship.

He'd tried to stop it, he really had. But when he'd managed to gather some of the leafs scattered across the floor, the wind had already blown down dozens of other leafs. And so, eventually, he'd stopped trying.

He'd started hoping that maybe, maybe, the skeleton of their relationship – their love – would be enough to hold on to. That if they just managed to hold on a little more, spring would come again and new leafs would grow and everything would be alright again.

But bones can break. And so they did.

They started crumbling, falling apart, just like everything else, and then, there was nothing left. The tree died, its skeleton turned to dust, rotting on the ground with all its brown and crumbled leafs.

Now they're here. And while he's frantically trying to rebuild the skeleton, to make it stand again, to save the tree, to save their relationship, Dean's just standing there, looking at him.

For a brief, bittersweet moment they are frozen like this, frozen in the last moment of their dying relationship, frozen among the remnants of what they used to be, and then he realizes that there's no point in holding on anymore, because he's the only one holding on, and so he breathes out one fateful word.

"Go."

Dean does, but he turns around one last time before he leaves the apartment. "Why do you still love me?", he asks.

Cas smiles sadly. "I don't know. I genuinely don't know."

He takes a deep breath before he asks his last question. "Why did you stop?"


	12. Goodbye Letters

**Goodbye letters**

The letter arrives two days after Dean's death. It's just lying there on his doormat, and Cas picks it up with shaking fingers.

Tears start filling his eyes as soon as he read the first line.

 _I guess… I guess this is goodbye._

 _I never meant for this to happen, I swear. But it did. And you deserve to know why._

 _When I was a little kid, I had dreams. I dreamt of a house with garden in the suburbs, a beautiful wife, two kids and a dog. But then I met you. And I fell for you._

 _I like the term "falling in love"._

 _I like it because I think it perfectly describes how it's like to… well, fall in love._

 _You don't just decide to love someone, you don't pick someone and be like: now I'm going to love this person so much I won't care about anyone else but them, not even about myself. It's not like that. You don't get to choose._

 _You fall for them. Head over heels. And once it's happening, you can't stop it. Just like falling into an abyss._

 _In fact, love's a lot like an abyss. You're falling and falling and falling, adrenaline and dopamine and all those other hormones floating through your veins, making you feel happy and dizzy and oh so good, until you reach the ground. If you're lucky, someone's there to catch you. If not… well, then you crash._

 _But it's not only love. There are a lot more abysses in life. A lot more ways to crash than to get your heart broken._

 _When I had that big fight with my dad, him calling me a dirty faggot and telling me to stay out of the house, and me trying so hard to fight back the tears, I fell into an abyss. I fell and fell and fell, but it didn't feel good at all, and when I crashed, it wasn't that bittersweet crash following a sweet fall. It just hurt. A lot._

 _I shattered like glass, a million little pieces on the ground of that abyss. But I put myself back together. Humans can do that. Some can even do it more than once. It'll leave scars, sure, just like a glass will never look the same when you glue it back together, but it'll hold. Forever, if you're lucky. For a long time, if you're not so lucky. Not very long, if you're like me._

 _But I believe there's a point when even the strongest human being on that whole screwed up planet won't be able to be put back together. Not by anyone. Not ever._

 _I'm not the strongest human being on that planet, so I reached that point a lot earlier than others may have. I fell and I crashed and I shattered, and then I just lay there, knowing that this was the end, knowing that I wouldn't be able to fix myself again, and I felt… okay._

 _I didn't blame you for what happened. I didn't blame myself. I don't blame either of us today. Maybe it was supposed to happen. Maybe we just weren't meant to be._

 _This might sound like I'm blaming fate, but I'm not. I don't think anyone's to blame. I think…_

 _Maybe that's the point. Maybe the point is falling. Maybe we're supposed to fall and crash and shatter and be put back together and then do it all over again, until we're so shattered we can't be fixed. And maybe that's when we know we've truly lived._

 _If that's true… well, then I did live, and so did you. We've probably lived enough for a lot more people than just the two of us. It was painful, I won't deny that, but it was also… perfect. For a little while, we knew what it was like to feel true love. And maybe what they say is true: No true love without true pain._

 _Anyway, I just want you to know that it was worth it. Knowing you, being with you for a little while, even if we couldn't have forever, was worth all this pain._

 _I love you. I still do. But it wasn't enough to put me back together._

 _I'm sorry._


	13. Break Your Heart

**Break Your Heart**

They first kiss on the dance floor of a small club downtown, where the music is too old and too loud, and where it smells of alcohol, sweat and puke. It isn't romantic, not at all, but he doesn't care about that. He doesn't care about her name either. All he cares about is that her hair is dark and messy and her sparkling eyes remind her of Cas.

Fate, or something that remotely feels like it, lets their paths cross again, in a coffee shop just two or three blocks away from the club. In the daylight, she reminds him of Cas even more, and he feels a sharp sting in his heart.

Nevertheless, he buys her coffee and learns her name, and when she smiles a bright, contagious smile and writes her number down on a piece of paper ripped from her sketchbook, he almost feels like he might be able to forget Cas one day.

He doesn't – not ever – but when he's with her, the pain lessens and he feels like he can finally breathe. He doesn't love her, and he knows that, but he keeps telling her so, and she keeps believing it, because she has no reason not to. She doesn't know about Cas or about the broken pieces in his chest that he calls a heart, so for her, they are just a girl and a boy who met and fell in love.

She learns the painful truth anyway, no matter how hard he tries to keep it from her.

It is their first anniversary, and he wants to do something special. It starts out just the way he planned it, dinner at a nice restaurant and then cocktails in a bar. But when he goes to the bar to get her a pink cocktail whose name he can't even pronounce, he sees him and his blood runs cold.

He looks just like the last time he's seen him, messy black hair and a wide smile. He's even wearing that goddamned trenchcoat, but when he raises his head and their eyes lock, his smile vanishes.

They stare at each other for a few seconds that feel like an eternity, and he can feel all the wounds ripping open once again. When he finally manages to look away, he leaves the bar like he's fleeing from something, and maybe he is.

She follows him outside and sits down next to him sidewalk.

"Are you okay?", she asks, gently, carefully.

He just shakes his head, and then the words start flowing, and he tells her everything. About Cas and how he broke his heart, all those months ago. About how he's still mourning this loss and how he's still grasping for Cas at night and feeling disappointed when he only feels her.

When he's finished, none of them talks for a very long time, and it's him who breaks the silence once again.

"I'm going to break your heart, you know."

He looks at her, that temporary replacement for the boy he loved, still loves, and he knows it's the truth. He will break her heart, just like Cas broke his. It's inevitable, but strangely, she just smiles.

"I know.", she says. "I knew right from the start. You never loved me."

"I…", he starts, but she interrupts him. "It's okay. Break my heart as many times as you want. And I'm going to love you for as long as I can."

He looks at her for a very long time. She is gentle, and nice, and friendly, and caring, all the things he isn't, not anymore, and he knows she doesn't deserves this, he knows he should tell her to leave as long as she still can.

But when he finally talks, the word that leaves his lips isn't "Leave".

It's "Okay".


	14. Silence (Is The Loudest Noise)

**Silence (Is The Loudest Noise)**

He had sometimes imagined the end.

He had imagined Dean realizing that he was into girls after all and leaving him heartbroken. He had imagined one of them dying a bloody and painful death and the other one endlessly grieving because they genuinely loved each other.

But he had never imagined it ending like this.

There was no big fight, no accusations screamed with voices shaky from crying, no slammed doors or whispered I hate yous. There was just silence. Silence that had once been love.

When he came home from work, Dean used to ask him how his day was, smiling his amazingly beautiful smile when he told him about his annoying colleagues and his stupid boss.

Now, he just nodded silently.

When they watched TV in the evening, he used to rest his head on Dean's shoulder, sometimes playing with his soft, messy hair, being so caught by his face he missed half the movie.

Now, they sat on different sides of the couch, hands just centimetres from each other's, but none of them reaching out to touch.

Like most important events – like falling in love with him, for instance – it didn't happen all of the sudden. There was no first time the silence filled their apartment, no exact moment to pinpoint.

He remembered resting his head on his chest one moment, and then, the next moment, sleeping with their backs turned to each other, but he didn't remember turning away.

He remembered annoying the hell out of him with his endless talking one moment, and then, the next moment, sitting next to him silently, but he didn't remember having nothing to say anymore.

He remembered laughing about his stupid jokes on moment, and then, the next moment, not even smiling at his sarcasm, but he didn't remember when he stopped finding him funny.

Silence came creeping in, slowly, quietly, and when they finally noticed, it was too late.

Silence was already filling up the room, silence was already filling up their hearts, and there was nothing left to say. Everything said, everything done.

"I don't want to leave.", he whispered, his voice shaky. "Tell me you want me to stay."

But Dean didn't say anything. There was only silence, silence so loud it made his heart burst with pain.

He knew it then. He knew it was too late. He knew it was ending.

And he let go.


End file.
